Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/220

212 First to arrive at the clear stream, and first With ready will to seek my sheep-cote here At evening; but, thy practice chang'd, thou com'st, Now last of all. Feel'st thou regret, my ram! Of thy poor master's eye, by a vile wretch Bored out, who overcame me first with wine, And by a crew of vagabonds accurs'd, Followers of Outis, whose escape from death Shall not be made to-day? Ah! that thy heart Were as my own, and that distinct as I Thou could'st articulate, so should'st thou tell, Where hidden, he eludes my furious wrath. Then, dash'd against the floor his spatter'd brain Should fly, and I should lighter feel my harm From Outis, wretch base-named and nothing-worth. So saying, he left him to pursue the flock. When, thus drawn forth, we had, at length, escaped Few paces from the cavern and the court, First, quitting my own ram, I loos'd my friends, Then, turning seaward many a thriven ewe Sharp-hoof'd, we drove them swiftly to the ship. Thrice welcome to our faithful friends we came From death escaped, but much they mourn'd the dead. I suffer'd not their tears, but silent shook My brows, by signs commanding them to lift The sheep on board, and instant plow the main. They, quick embarking, on the benches sat Well ranged, and thresh'd with oars the foamy flood;